


Anchor

by talkingtothesky



Category: Person of Interest (TV)
Genre: Angst and Fluff and Smut, Episode: s01e21 Many Happy Returns, F/M, M/M, Merry Month of Masturbation Challenge, Pining, Season/Series 01, Sexual Fantasy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-06
Updated: 2019-05-06
Packaged: 2020-02-27 06:47:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 466
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18733789
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/talkingtothesky/pseuds/talkingtothesky
Summary: John settles in to his new loft.





	Anchor

John yawns and stretches. He hasn't felt this relaxed in a long, long time. He feels safe here. Finch owns this place. Finch would warn him of intruders in the building, would know the second he went missing, would come after him. Finch would...

John sighs, shakes his head fondly. Finch. Every other thought John has is about that man. There's warmth in his chest, in his cheeks. Not for the first time in the past ten months, John lifts his hand and traces the smile on his lips with a finger. It keeps appearing there when he talks to or thinks about Finch. 

It’s not what he expected. His happy place is a warm breeze and a soft pink nightdress, Jessica's hair fanned out on the pillow. He's not giving that up. Not ever. But this… John runs the back of his hand over absurdly high threadcount gray sheets. There's a space here beside him and he wants to fill it, with a paranoid genius who talks too much, whose head would fit perfectly under John's chin. 

It's different, imagining nice things that have never happened, rather than remembering one sunny weekend and blocking out the part where it all fell to ash around them.

John shifts onto his side, gathering spare pillows from the unused side of the bed and squishing them into shape. Shoulders, torso, thighs. Presses himself against their yielding softness and pictures his arm draped around Harold's form. Would Harold let John be the big spoon? Would he catch John's hand and pull the arm tighter around him? Would he lean into John's embrace, and just breathe with him?

How might his breathing change, if John's hand wandered? Would he pretend to be unaffected? Would he squirm in John's hold, moving stiffly back and forth in the tight circle of John's grip? Oh, _yes_. 

John pushes the lowest pillow hard into his groin and rocks his hips against it. Harold probably picked these pillows out for him, not thinking that John would use them like this. Guilt intrudes on the fantasy, and John works hard to regain it, smoothing his palms down the back of Jessica's dress until he calms, until he thinks of Harold saying his name, the way he does when his voice wobbles because he's just glad to learn that Reese is still alive.

That gives him hope, that Harold already loses his composure over him, sometimes. Maybe not enough to say John's name in bed, and he can't imagine a _please_ on Harold's lips. But what if sex made Harold quiet instead of chatty, what if he communicated by the strength of his grip on John's wrist, not letting up even after coming apart in John’s hands? Not letting go. Not letting Reese slip away for anything.


End file.
